


On Love

by HumbIeBee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble, M/M, inspired by "on love" theme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8747587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumbIeBee/pseuds/HumbIeBee
Summary: Love takes many forms, it differs from person to person like snowflakes.Sometimes, love and it's meaning can change.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't sleep and I was thinking about how there are only going to be 3 more episodes of Yuri on ice and so I wrote this on my phone ( ✌︎'ω')✌︎  
> Please excuse any mistakes from my unbeta'd self thank you!! <3

Love takes on many forms. It differs from person to person like snowflakes. 

To Victor Nikiforov, love was the scratch of skates over ice, the flick of frost and the feeling of cold metal against his hands. It was the cold air on his hot skin and the sweat on his forehead as he spun and jumped and landed with a crack on the rink. Love was cold, clean and exact.

To Yuri Katsuki, love was the smell of pork and soup in the evening, the heavy heat of the hotspring on his tired shoulders. It was the steam in his nose and eyes as he sighed into the waters of the bath and closed his eyes, the weight of blankets on his bed. Love was warm, hearty and soft.

To Victor, love was the screaming of the crowd. It was the numbness in his ears and the flowers around his neck and head. Love was a perfect score, it was glorious and proud and generous. Love was more than expected.

To Yuri, love was silence. It was the empty rows of seats stretching over him as he navigated the rink alone. Love was his very best, improvement and perseverance and acknowledgement. Love was earnest and deserved.

To Victor, every step meant change. Every breath, every jump and every loop meant something new, something different. He felt himself changing in the way he moved, the way he saw the world. To Victor, love had transformed into something entirely new. To him, love was real, confronting, and embracing. It was there in the way he gave out advice and wisdom, the way he spoke softly to his protege. Love was the ache in his chest and the flush in his face. For Victor, love became genuine and true.

To Yuri, change was never staggered. It came on at once, realisation and truth crashing over him like waves. Like a fall. The journey went unnoticed, and the destination snuck up on him without warning. But it was there in the way he smiled, the way he laughed when he ate meals with his coach, showed him his favourite places and revealed things about himself. Before Yuri new it, his love was new and strange to him. It was the fluttering in his stomach and the stammer in his speech. It was the desperation, the emotion in his skating that drove him to move on, drove him to win. Love was determination, devotion and freedom.

Victor realised his love in steps, slowly and steadily. He gathered it together in pieces, starting with the way Yuri smiled at him in the sleepy evenings, then adding in his smile, his drive, and his motivation. He took how Yuri moved on the ice, the way he could tell a story without speaking a single word, how a glance in Victor's direction could tell him all that he needed to know. It was not difficult for him at all. He found new pieces, how Yuri's mother would smile kindly at him over dinner, or how the people in Hasetsu would greet him cheerfully each morning as he went running. When the seagulls cried overhead he realised exactly what love was to him.

For Yuri, the realisation was not as easy. It came in the little changes every day. Victor, his coach, his friend, his... 

Inspiration came to him each morning on the ice. New regimens and diets to keep him in shape and prepared for competition dug their way into his daily routine. Time spent with Victor became natural and comforting. Weekends spent hot-cheeked and tipsy, taking care of his drunken coach became somewhat normal, bringing with them a sense of warmth and homeliness. It wasn't until much later that Yuri realised that he couldn't quite imagine his life before Victor became a part of it. It crashed over him in a single moment, filling his mouth and his nose and his lungs. This was his love. 

His love was the scratching of skates on the ice, the screaming of the crowd. At the same time, it was the silence of the rink and the heat of the hotspring. It was soft, cold, ernest, expected. It was in the numbness of his back as the he lay against the ice, the weight of Victor on top of him as his lips pressed against his own. It was the cheering of the people all around them and the look in his eyes as he stared longingly and lovingly. 

Sometimes, love and it's meaning can change.


End file.
